


A Hand Like Sunshine

by Wolven_Spirits



Series: Souls of Ilk [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A bit of torture, Also a dead body cus it's Voldemort, Also there's this river in Egypt..., Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Cinnamon Roll Harry Potter, Ficlet, Fluff, Harry is channeling his inner Newt, Hufflepuff Harry Potter, I'm not a doctor, M/M, Matchmaker Nagini, Minor Character Death, No Horcruxes, No big age gap, No prophecy, Pre-Slash, Pretend Science, Protective Tom Riddle, Timeline What Timeline, Tom doesn't like emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2019-11-18 03:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18112328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolven_Spirits/pseuds/Wolven_Spirits
Summary: Nagini has been acting suspiciously. Lord Voldemort is just there to make sure she's okay. He has absolutely no interest in Harry Potter. Really.





	1. Harry Potter is annoying

Lord Voldemort was not one to worry, especially not about a snake as capable as Nagini, but he was currently feeling somewhat… concerned. Or rather… suspicious, he decided.

He had long come to terms with the fact that she was independent and enjoyed spending time hunting outdoors, especially during the summer. Recently, however, he had noticed that she had begun to spend more and more time away from the fire in his study. Where she used to laze in his bed long after he had risen, now she was often gone before he awoke.

He wondered, then, if perhaps she had found a mate? She had never mentioned a desire to procreate, but in the end, she was a snake and she had her instincts, as all animals did.

He would not be jealous if she did want to do so, of course. He was above such petty emotions. But he did need to make sure that her chosen mate was… worthy.

He could not tell exactly where she was, but he could sense her presence close by. He strode down the stone path that bisected the many pastures behind the manor. Most of them were already full of the various beasts kept both for his leisure and for his elite soldiers. The thestrals were idling under a thick copse of trees, while the hippogriffs were roosting in rocky nests. The largest pasture was still empty, however, as the abraxans were not fond of early mornings, spoiled beasts that they were.

Unlike the thestrals and some of the hippogriffs, the abraxans were not trained for battle or service in his army. They were purely for transportation or leisure. It was a luxury that not all could afford, for they were picky creatures that required the utmost care, but of course, as Lord and Ruler of Great Britain, Lord Voldemort had no need to worry about money. Not anymore. Not like when he was but a child, orphaned and poor, relying on the good will of others. Now it was others who relied on him, and never again would he be so weak.

It was as he neared the stables that he heard the distant sound of hissing. Having heard Nagini speak many times, he recognized her immediately. It was the other he could not place.

He slowed down, pausing just beyond the door where he could hear the strangest of conversations taking place.

“ _Could you repeat that word_?” Whoever was speaking sounded… odd. Accented. Lord Voldemort sincerely hoped that Nagini had not picked a questionable partner. He was loathe to forbid her anything she truly desired.

“ _Oblivious_.”

“ _Oblivious_ ,” the stranger repeated, pronunciation only a hint off.

“ _Very good. I am pleased. You have learned many new words_.”

A very human laugh rang out. “ _I couldn’t have done it without your help, my beautiful lady._ ”

Nagini hissed, pleased.

Lord Voldemort’s eyes narrowed and he stepped forward silently, until he could see into the stable. He followed Nagini’s long body until his eyes fell upon a young man crouched down, his head rested on one of his knees as he stroked the snake’s head. Lord Voldemort studied him for a moment, trying to place him. Short, messy hair, green eyes, and a light smile. But not someone he recognized.

Still, the young man was wearing the staff uniform and, based on the bars upon his collar, was no lowly labourer.

He stepped forward again, this time with sound.

The man’s head rose in surprise even as Nagini hissed happily upon seeing her master. Then the young man stood and dipped into a deep bow.

“My Lord,” He said cheerfully - _cheerfully_ \- as if greeting a friend instead of the feared Lord Voldemort. “I hope you fare well this morning.”

“ _Master_ ,” Nagini hissed as she coiled around his ankle. “ _You are early. This human is Hairy. I have been helping him with his pronunciation_.”

‘Hairy’ flushed slightly. He bowed again. “Harry Potter, My Lord.”

Ah.

A Potter, though. Interesting. He hadn’t heard the name in many years - not since the war against Grindelwald.

Lord Voldemort raised a brow. “Nagini has been… teaching you?”

Potter blinked, then beamed. “Oh, yes, she’s been most kind. I’ve always had a little bit of trouble with parseltongue. I find that I can’t get some of the sounds _quite_ right.”

“ _You are much better now_ ,” Nagini assured him.

Potter grinned, unafraid, as if she were a common garter snake. It should have been disrespectful, but the young man’s touches had been almost reverent as he handled the deadly snake.

“You are a Parselmouth?” Lord Voldemort narrowed his eyes. He had not heard that there were any others in Britain.

Potter shook his head. “Oh, no. I mean, I wish I were,” he said a little dreamily. “But I’ve had to learn it, noun by verb by adjective. It was part of my mastery.”

Lord Voldemort’s eyes lingered on the bands on Potter’s collar. Two of them were larger and more ornate, designating his Masteries. Magizoology, and Beast Speak. A smaller band indicated his status as a journeyman in Beast Healing.

How fascinating.

He did not keep track of all of his staff - there were far too many to remember, and he had little time to spare on mere servants. He had known that Master Arbor, his old caretaker, had mentioned retiring a few years ago, but had never bothered meeting his replacement. He supposed it would be good to ensure that Potter was skilled enough to handle his beasts. They were an essential part of his army, and he would not tolerate any neglect. Though, of course, the fact that he had never noticed that Mastor Arbor was no longer working for him spoke of the young man’s skill.

“ _Master, why are you here_?” Nagini unravelled herself, and returned to Potter’s side, winding up his leg and pushing her head into his hand until he stroked her head.

Lord Voldemort was not jealous of the fact that she liked Potter so much. Nor was he here to spy on her. He would, however, keep an eye on her to make sure Potter hadn’t tricked her somehow. She didn’t normally like any of his followers.

“Saddle Andarta. I wish to ride.” He waved his hand dismissively, even as he watched with sharp eyes. He knew just how temperamental his abraxan was. She liked Lord Voldemort, and none else. Any who tried to get near her were subject to her vicious bite.

Normally he cared for her himself, except to let her in and out of the pasture. Sometimes, however, he would command others to ready her, if only to watch them squirm and quiver before her.

But Potter only bowed, gave Nagini one last pat, and strode to the large stall, taking on the fearsome task of waking her up with nary a complaint.

Brave, but foolish. The Potter Family, if he recalled correctly, was predominantly Gryffindor. Perhaps that was why there was only one left.

Lord Voldemort watched as Potter unlatched the stall, clicking his tongue and making soft whuffing noises that roused Andarta from her slumber. He saw her head rise, her wings fluttering, stretching out above her. She looked at Potter, and let out a great heaving sigh. Potter reached out a hand, and Lord Voldemort waited for the moment she chose to strike.

But it never came.

Instead, she leaned forward, and placed her soft nose in the mercy of his touch. He stroked her gently, making small, gentle noises. Slowly she stood, and allowed him to give her a quick check and brush before saddling her up.

She looked towards her waiting Lord, let out another sigh, and turned back, nosing Potter’s pockets for treats.

Lord Voldemort held back a scowl.

Traitor.

Potter, of course, caved instantly and brought out two sugar cubes which disappeared with a snort. The young man laughed then, stroking her head fondly before bringing her out.

Lord Voldemort kept his face impassive as he took the reins with a nod and led her out. The young man was good with animals, he admitted grudgingly. Master Arbor would not have approved of him otherwise. The man was as grouchy as they came, but took his job more seriously than any others Lord Voldemort had met.

He glanced over at his newest caretaker, who waved at him with a smile, Nagini wrapped around his neck.

Lord Voldemort mounted quickly and set off, sweeping into the skies, away from the irritatingly cheerful Harry Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (In truth, Harry bribed Andarta every morning with a bowl of sugar cubes and a bucket of whiskey. He hoped Lord Voldemort didn’t notice that she was beginning to get a little bit fat.)


	2. Harry Potter is not endearing

Nagini continued to disappear early in the mornings, and Lord Voldemort found himself hunting her down more often than not.

Of course, he usually found her in the company of a cheerful Harry Potter who would gladly saddle up Andarta for him, or update him on the health of his beasts. Not that Lord Voldemort needed to know such minute details about his animals, but he listened anyway because it helped ensure that Harry was indeed doing his job.

The young man in question seemed happiest when he was handling an animal, no matter how vicious. In fact, just the other morning, Lord Voldemort had caught him hand-feeding a young hippogriff who was obviously on the verge of nesting. And he’d had the audacity to _laugh_ when the young beast had nearly taken his hand off along with the proffered piece of meat.

“She’s irritable, not murderous,” Harry grinned.

“Honestly, such a Gryffindor,” Lord Voldemort muttered. “Why not simply use magic? It’s far easier and safer.”

“Hufflepuff,” Potter corrected absently. He watched the hippogriff carefully, making sure she had her fill of meat. “It’s easier, but it lacks a personal touch. There is more empathy, more love, when I feed them by hand. They see me, they feel my touch, and they know me.”

 _Love_. Lord Voldemort sneered. _How weak_.

“And some of them,” Potter continued, oblivious to his Lord’s disdain, “have had…” he paused then, glancing cautiously at Lord Voldemort, who stared back commandingly. Harry’s brows furrowed. “Some of them have been harmed by wands, and are wary of wizarding magic.”

“You think I abuse my steeds?”

Potter shook his head. “Not so, My Lord. They do not fear you. But nonetheless, they have been harmed, and they do not forget such things. Those that are bred for battle are less… sensitive, of course, but I would still recommend a gentle hand from… all of your followers.”

Lord Voldemort stared at the young man, taking in his sorrow, his frustration, his blatantly obvious emotions.

 _Pathetic_ , he wanted to say. But he did not, because there was something about the way he cared so unreservedly that made him… different. Unknown.

Lord Voldemort did not understand it.

“You… love animals very much,” He said, trying not to sneer. He wanted answers, after all.

Potter’s smile was softer this time, and a little pained. “My parents died when I was about a year old, so I grew up with muggles, you see,” he said “My aunt and uncle and cousin.”

Lord Voldemort had not asked Potter for his life story, but he supposed knowing such information could be useful.

“They… were not fond of me, to say the least.” He rubbed his arm absently, as if soothing away an old ache.

The Dark Lord frowned.

“I didn’t have any friends growing up either. No one except for the animals in the garden. I did a lot of work in the yard, but in some ways, I feel like it was a blessing in disguise. I always kept a few scraps to feed to the birds, and the crows would bring me shiny trinkets in return. It was nice to receive gifts…” He paused, his eyes a little distant. Then he shook his head. “But it was the snakes who came most often. Just garter snakes, but they were curious and friendly. They’d hiss at me and I’d hiss back and - well,” he flushed slightly with a quick glance at Lord Voldemort. “It took me a long time to realize that they were laughing at me. Turns out I said some very amusing things. But,” he continued hastily, “they loved teaching me. I learned rudimentary Parseltongue from them throughout my childhood, up until I got accepted at Hogwarts.”

“And this led you to become a magizoologist.”

Potter shook his head. “I had never really thought about what I wanted to be, in all honesty. I suppose my focus was always on - well, short term survival,” he gave a slight shrug, as if it didn’t matter. “But when I went to Hogwarts, I realized that Care of Magical Creatures was a whole subject - a job, even.” He smiled again, slight wonder in his gaze.

Lord Voldemort watched his expression curiously, not used to such expressive creatures.Harry’s gaze softened when he was happy and his lips curved appealingly when he smiled. It was… strangely pleasing to see such expressions upon his face.

“I didn’t know anything about the wizarding world until that letter came, and it changed my life. I started spending most of my free time helping Professor Kettleburn with the creatures, even before I could take his class. I was in third year when he told me about an opportunity in the United States - the Scamander Reservation was accepting apprenticeship applications. They were looking for someone a little older, but Professor Kettleburn convinced me to apply and gave me a letter of recommendation.”

Potter tapped his finger to his lips. “I sometimes feel that he must have done more than just that, since really, my application was not particularly impressive. Still, it got me an interview, and, well, they took me in. I transferred to Ilvermony, finished my education there, and completed my Masteries shortly after.”

Scamander. Quite a famous name. “I believe Lord Malfoy requested Scamander’s aide with his peacocks a few years ago.”

“Oh, yes, well they were a little busy so they sent me instead.” Harry shrugged.

“You were the one to successfully breed the white peacocks?” Lucius had been so pleased that he had bragged about it for months afterwards.

“It was just a slight change in diet, to be honest. And a few extra warming charms at the right time. They were quite ready, otherwise. Very spoiled, those birds are.”

“Indeed,” Lord Voldemort replied, an amused curve to his lips.

Harry laughed. It was a warm sound. “Master Arbor found out, told me he was retiring, and, well,” Harry scratched the back of his head. “Made me his replacement.” He frowned then. “I suppose I never had a proper interview or anything…” He glanced up at Lord Voldemort. “Do I need to have one now?”

Lord Voldemort arched a brow, his eyes lingering on the way Harry nibbled nervously on his lip. “Master Arbor was highly skilled. I do not doubt his choice in replacement.”

Harry beamed, cheeks slightly flushed. “Great, thank you My Lord.”

The Dark Lord found himself returning the smile, if only slightly. It was the polite thing to do, after all.

—

“The Potters have always been a Light family,” Lord Voldemort mused as he watched Harry pat a young thestral on the nose. He was disturbingly comfortable around the deathly creatures.

Harry hummed. “Apparently,” he agreed. “Dad died fighting Grindelwald, and Mum died when his forces attacked a hospital. So in that sense, I suppose they opposed a Dark Lord.” He shrugged. “I don’t really get what the fuss is about different types of magic. In the end, it’s magic.” He knelt down, checking the beast’s hooves. “I’m not opposed to your reign, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Harry said idly.

“I wasn’t,” Lord Voldemort said, allowing his suspicions to rest. “Simply curious as to why you chose to stay when you had plenty of opportunities in the colonies.”

Harry paused then, head tilting slightly. “I’m not here because of my beliefs in magic, or any political leanings,” he said finally. “I’m here because I believe that all living beings deserve love and care. There was an opportunity here, and so I took it.” The thestral leaned into his gentle touch.

“ _All_ living beings?”

Harry glanced up at him and smiled. “Yes.”

There was a curious warmth that flared within him. “You are an odd creature,” he mused.

Harry grinned.

—

Lord Voldemort stood stiffly as Harry wept over the corpse of one of his hounds. A mother that had left behind a small litter of puppies. She had died defending them against a direwolf.

“They’ll grow up without their mum,” Harry warbled.

“They’re alive because of her,” He countered.

Harry sniffed but nodded. “She gave her life for theirs.” He smiled tremulously. “I’ll make sure her sacrifice was not in vain.”

Lord Voldemort nodded. “They can grow to be great, even without her.”

Harry glanced up curiously as he wiped away his tears. His eyes were vividly green.

The Dark Lord pursed his lips and looked away. “I grew up in an orphanage,” he said finally. “I did not need my parents to succeed.” He did not know why he was telling Harry such things. He never talked of his past. Never shared such a weakness. And yet to see Harry with tears in his eyes made him speak when normally he would have sneered.

There was a gentle touch on his arm. Harry was smiling. “Thank you, My Lord,” he said.

Lord Voldemort scowled. “Tom,” he said. There was something about the way that Harry was looking at him that made his heart thump.

Harry blinked.

“My name,” He said, “is Tom. You may use it only when we are alone.”

Harry beamed, and his eyes glimmered ever bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (“I’m not blushing,” Harry insisted.  
> Nagini snickered.)


	3. Harry Potter is not to be touched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Harry...

Lord Voldemort paused along the path as the sound of muffled laughter reached his ears. He did not recognize the voices, but he knew the tone, cruel and mocking as it was.

It was mixed with the shrieking of an angered creature.

A frown tugged at his brow as he turned, heading towards the sheltered enclosure that hosted the hippogriff nests. He entered silently, noting the large gash in the ceiling and three of his Death Eaters laughing at a figure curled up on the ground, writhing under what was unmistakably the cruciatus curse.

His eyes narrowed because he _knew_ that hair. He knew that face, warped as it was in pain. And the sight of such an expression brought _rage_. It was a familiar emotion - one he had felt many times throughout his life - and yet, this time it felt different somehow. More potent and all-consuming.

He tilted his head as he approached, his steps swift, gaze deadly. He recognized the white blonde hair, even though the boy’s back was turned. He was standing tall with his arms crossed while the other two leaned over his Harry.

“Draco,” he crooned. He watched in satisfaction as the three froze, the curse ending as they turned and immediately dropped to their knees as they saw him.

But it was not enough.

He let them wait as he watched Harry push himself upwards to lean against the door behind him, limbs trembling and eyes glazed - but not vacant.

Still, he knew the signs - the uncontrollable twitches, the gasping breaths, the way his eyes could not seem to focus.

How long had they been torturing him?

Lord Voldemort’s eyes lidded, hiding the fury that writhed through him, an insatiable beast. He wanted them to hurt. To pay for what they had done.

But he knew better than to let his rage control him. Instead, he would draw out their punishment, and it would be all the sweeter.

He knelt then and lifted Harry into his arms. He could feel the muscles trembling under his touch and kept his grip gentle as he turned and strode back towards the manor. The thought of simply levitating Harry did not even cross his mind.

He did not worry about the Death Eaters he had left behind. Draco and his little friends knew better than to move. He would deal with them later. For now he had someone much more important to deal with.

He headed for one of the spare rooms and placed Harry on the bed before summoning his healer.

“My Lord,” She bowed upon arrival.

“Shafiq,” He said, gesturing towards the bed. “The cruciatus curse.”

Her eyes widened and she nodded, reaching into her bag for her potions. With her other hand she cast spells, lips pursing as she read the results. She muttered something unfavourable under her breath as she unstoppered the vials. She brushed her wand along Harry’s throat, relaxing the muscles and allowing him to swallow.

“Far too long,” she said as she watched Harry succumb to the sleeping potion she had fed him. “There’s bound to be long term damage. But what it is we won’t know until the potions finish their jobs and he wakes up.”

Lord Voldemort nodded. “Very well. You will be in charge of his recovery.”

She bowed low as he swept out of the room, his face calm despite his anger. He could stay in the room no longer. He could not look at the young man lying on the bed, face pale, limbs still twitching in the aftermath of such cruelty.

His lips thinned. They had _dared_ touch Harry. The thought brought a strange burning in his chest. He resisted the urge to press his hand against his heart.

He had been far too lax with the young Malfoy heir. The boy was arrogant and unrestrained, throwing around the weight of his name to get whatever he wanted. Lucius and Narcissa, in their loving dotage, had indulged the boy far too much.

Perhaps it was time to teach him some humility.

He took his time returning, allowing his rage to simmer - calmer, but no less lethal.

Nagini met him partway, having sense her master’s ire. She settled around his shoulders, hissing angrily when he told her of their transgressions.

He smiled as he approached them, his red eyes gleaming. He smiled as he bid them rise, as their gazes turned hesitantly towards his face, though they did not dare meet his eyes. He smiled as he inspected the damage done to the building. A reducto, by the look of it. There was a young hippogriff huddled in the far corner, hissing threateningly as his servants stood.

_I would still recommend a gentle hand from… all of your followers,_ Harry had said. And Lord Voldemort had brushed away his words. Something ugly squirmed its way behind his ribs.

He turned then to the Malfoy heir, his hands idly stroking his wand. “Will you explain to me, Draco, why you felt the need to torture my caretaker?”

Malfoy swallowed. “My Lord,” he said, his voice surprisingly stable. His hands were clasped tightly together. “Th-the hippogriff, it tried to attack me. I went to punish it, when the _halfblood_ pushed my wand away. H-he dared touch me, My Lord. I could not let it go unpunished.”

Lord Voldemort had to admit that the Malfoy Heir stood his ground admirably well in the face of his wrath. Still, he enjoyed the way the boy trembled, the way his knuckles were pressed white, the way his eyes darted anywhere but his face. His chin was raised but his lips were pressed tight.

Nodding in mock understanding, still smiling gently, he moved to the other two. Jugson and Avery, he noted as he glanced at the insignias upon their collars. Purebloods, but of insignificant house.

He trailed his wand along Jugson’s jaw, and pushed his chin upwards until their eyes met.

Then he dove, his eyes gleaming as he tore into the memories with venomous fangs.

 

_“She is not trained to be ridden,” Harry was frowning. “And she’s nesting and irritable. If I may recommend an alternate - “_

_“Don’t be a fool, I can handle the beast,” Malfoy sniffed as he approached the half door that led into the enclosure._

_“Heir Malfoy,” Harry jerked forward, eyes on the irate hippogriff. “Please don’t - “_

_“Don’t tell me what to do, mudblood,” Malfoy spat, turning to glare at Harry. “Know your place. I can do whatever I want. I do not fear a mindless beast.”_

_“She’s not - “ Harry was cut off when Avery stepped in, pushing Harry backwards._

_Malfoy smirked and the hippogriff shrieked, wings flaring as she leapt forward, claws swiping forward over the door. The blonde stumbled backwards just far enough to avoid the blow, and Jugson shot a stinging hex at the creature, driving it back._

_Snarling, Malfoy drew his wand. “You stupid beast, I’ll have you killed for that.” He aimed his wand, the curse falling from his lips as Harry dove forwards, pushing his arm up and away. The curse flew wide, blasted the ceiling above them._

_“You dare?” Malfoy shrieked, turning to Harry, who had not had the time to draw his wand. “I’ll make you pay for that, you mudblood.” He slashed his wand downwards. “Crucio.”_

_Harry fell, writhing, his mouth open but no sound emerging. On, and on, Malfoy held the curse. It was minutes before he ended it, panting slightly as he allowed the other two to take over._

 

He pulled himself from Jugson’s mind, uncaring of the damage he had left behind. The boy slid to the ground with a groan. Lord Voldemort’s smile widened.

“Draco, do you know who it is that you cursed?” He tilted his head as he stepped over Jugson’s collapsed form.

“J-just a mudblood, My Lord, a servant of yours…”

“A servant of mine…” Lord Voldemort mused. “Even if that was all he was, he would still belong to me. I find myself curious as to why you felt you had the authority to punish what is mine?” He wondered idly if perhaps his Death Eaters had been a little too free in their actions when he was not around. Had he perhaps given them a far inflated sense of entitlement when he had bestowed upon them his coveted mark?

“Forgive me My Lord, I simply wished to show him his place beneath you…” Malfoy was looking even paler than he had been moments ago. Good. Perhaps he was catching on.

“Do you know what the marks on his collar signify, Draco?”

“M-marks, My Lord?”

“Indeed. You did take the time to correctly identify him, did you not?”

“I - I didn’t notice…”

“You didn’t?” Lord Voldemort shook his head disappointedly. “What has your father been teaching you…” He tapped his wand on his hand. “I will tell you, then.” He smiled gently, eyes lidded. “His name is Harry Potter. Indeed, he is a halfblood. He also holds two masteries. He is the only one in all of the British Isles to have a mastery in Magizoology and Beast Speak. And he serves me.” Nagini stirred upon his shoulder, yawning widely and snapping her jaw closed.

Malfoy was trembling again, looking quite ready to faint. Jugson was still on the ground, and Avery had fallen back to his knees.

“So you see, he is extremely valuable to me. And I admit that I find myself quite… irked that you have taken it upon yourself to act where you had no authority.” His magic flared then, dark and heavy as it saturated the air, leaving no room to mistake his rage.

“P-please forgive me My Lord,” Malfoy knelt then. Or perhaps his legs were simply shaking too much to hold him up.

“I am a generous Lord,” he conceded, letting his wand trace Malfoy’s jaw tauntingly, as he had Jugson’s. “I will give you a chance to work for your forgiveness.”

“Of course, My Lord. Anything. Anything at all.”

“While Harry is recovering, you will take over his duties. You will care for the creatures in his stead. You will not use any magic. You will keep their habitats clean. You will feed them. You will care for them as he did. And if you harm any of them, I will know, and you will be punished.”

“Yes, yes My Lord. Thank you, My Lord.” They crawled forward, hands grasping and kissing the hem of his robes.

He had not demanded such subservience since the beginning of his reign, but he allowed them their delusions of forgiveness.

“You will not be punished, but for this kindness, you will owe me a boon.” He smiled as their eyes widened. He felt magic rise up, flaring as his words were recognized. It was as strong as a vow, and would be passed to their family or descendants if he did not collect before they died.

“Th-thank you, My Lord,” Malfoy trembled. Even if he had escaped his Lord’s punishment, he would still have to face his parents, and Lord Voldemort knew they would be very displeased. He did not doubt their loyalty, but they were Slytherins through and through. To owe someone a boon was dangerous, and they would not be pleased to have been dealt such a blow.

“Remember,” he warned. “If you step out of line, I will know.” He tilted his head. “I would be most cautious. The creatures are very fond of Harry. They are most protective. Step carefully.” He was far from assuaged, but it would do for now. He had time, and they would pay.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry could sense gentle hands and a familiar voice. He leaned into the touch.
> 
> "Harry. It’s time to wake up."
> 
> Just… just a little longer. Harry sighed as darkness overwhelmed him. A displeased hiss chased him into dream.


	4. Harry Potter is sweet like sugar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made this a series because I have a some short drabbles I will be posting. 
> 
> Thank you for reading - I hope you have enjoyed the story!

“Draco,” Lord Voldemort said idly. “Is there a problem?”

“M-My Lord, Avery is…” Malfoy was pale and trembling, looking everywhere except at the gutted corpse that lay at the Dark Lord’s feet.

Dead.

Well, it was no loss.

The young hippogriff was cleaning her bloodied claws, clicking her beak warningly whenever Malfoy looked in her direction. Lord Voldemort would send the best cuts of meat her way.

“Best clean it up, then,” The Dark Lord murmured, “before the blood stains.” He glanced at Jugson, but the boy was crouched, his head in his hands as he rocked back and forth, staring unseeing at Avery’s body. Malfoy whimpered at the thought of dealing with the corpse without using any magic.

Lord Voldemort smiled.

—

It took almost two weeks for Harry to wake up. Two weeks during which Lord Voldemort’s temper was far shorter than usual. Two weeks during which he found himself striding down the pathway between the pastures before remembering that Harry was in a coma and it was therefore the Malfoy Heir who could be found in the stables instead.

Sometimes he stopped by anyway, if only to watch the aristocrat struggle to lift a shovel of manure from a stall or cry over his blistered hands.

Lord Voldemort would watch him work, then leave Nagini behind to keep him trembling and afraid.

Jugson was all but insane by now, and was of no help to the Malfoy Heir, and his peers had distanced themselves from Draco, well aware that he had incurred their Lord’s ire. It pleased him to see the boy _squirm_.

And yet still he felt no better. Because more, even, than revenge, what he wanted was…

_Harry, smiling up at him as he stroked the thestral’s nose._

—

Lord Voldemort was in his study when the note arrived, informing him that Harry was waking up. He hurried over, slowing his steps only when he was just outside the room. He strode in, face blank, and paused at the foot of the bed while Healer Shafiq cast spells over the young man.

His eyes traced Harry’s pale features as he blinked, eyes slowly roving the room until they stopped on the Dark Lord. A small smile curved Harry’s lips and Lord Voldemort had to look away.

“How do you feel?” Healer Shafiq shone a light in Harry’s eye, observing its response.

Harry frowned slightly as she released him and stepped back. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Opened it, his gaze questioning as he glanced at the Dark Lord and back at the healer. He shook his head.

Lord Voldemort felt something cold settle in his stomach.

Healer Shafiq pursed her lips. “Can you understand me?” She looked like she already knew the answer to her question.

Harry stared at her, his frown deepening.

She closed her eyes for a moment, before nodding. Then she cast a spell, and an image of Harry’s brain formed in front of her. She waved her wand and parts of it glowed momentarily.

She took a deep breath and glanced at the Dark Lord. “I’m afraid,” she said, “that he has sustained some brain damage as a result of prolonged exposure to the cruciatus curse.”

Lord Voldemort gripped the footboard, his knuckles white.

“His mental functions are all there, except for… well, language. He is currently unable to understand what we are saying. He is not the first to suffer such a consequence. I have seen it before. There are treatments for this issue, but they can only do so much. I’m afraid that it is likely that he will always have some issues speaking.”

“Whatever he needs for his recovery, he will have,” Lord Voldemort commanded. He lifted Nagini from his shoulders and laid her on the bed. She hissed happily as she made her way up to Harry who smiled as she curled up on his stomach.

He nodded curtly at the healer and her patient before striding from the room, hands clenched behind his back.

Damaged.

Harry had been hurt. Tortured so horrifically that he could no longer speak.

The Dark Lord was no stranger to the cruciatus curse. He used it often, in fact, but only ever for a few seconds at a time. It was not meant to be used for such a long period of time, unless one wanted the victim to go insane.

And yet three of his followers had used it so easily without care as to the consequences.

Lord Voldemort had been careless. Negligent. And Harry was paying the price.

When had his control - his rule - begun to slip so drastically? He had always ruled with a firm hand. Firm, but not cruel. Lord Grindlewald had been cruel, with no regard to the magical blood he had spilled. Lord Voldemort had promised never to lose himself in such a way. His followers had respected him. Obeyed him. Feared his wrath, yes, but never was he unnecessarily cruel, because fear alone was not enough to guarantee their loyalty.

And yet.

He hissed angrily, his wand slashing upwards as he blasted the wall of his chamber. What would Harry think of him now?

—

“ _He can still speak_ ,” Nagini said as she wound her way up his arm.

“ _Yes, Healer Shafiq said that he will make a partial recovery. He will always have some problems, however_.” Lord Voldemort stroked her head absently.

“ _He still speaks with me_ ,” She said, pleased. “ _He has no problems speaking_.”

He paused. “ _Does he_.”

“ _Sometimes he speaks with Healer Shafiq or the teacher she brought in. But mostly he speaks with me_.” She wriggled smugly.

The Dark Lord was silent. Harry had lost his ability to speak English, but not Parseltongue? Perhaps his disability only affected his primary language. How odd.

“ _Still_ ,” Nagini continued, “ _I think he is lonely_.”

“ _I’m sure he will visit his friends if he wishes for company._ ”

Nagini bumped her head against his jaw. “ _You should go see him_.”

“ _I’m busy. I will visit him later._ ” He waved his hand dismissively.

She hissed, displeased. “ _I’m going to go find him._ ”

The Dark Lord ignored her, turning his attention back to the reports on his desk. He did have a lot of work to do, after all.

—

Lord Voldemort had not seen Nagini in a week. Usually she spent the evening by the fire and curled up next to him when he slept.

But she had not returned.

She was alive, he knew, because he could feel her through their bond. She was alive, but for some reason had not come to see him even once.

The Dark Lord scowled. He was not worried about her, but she was his familiar and he had a duty to ensure her health and safety.

There was, he knew, a large possibility that she was with Harry. His steps slowed as he mulled over the thought. Finding Nagini might mean finding Harry.

There was the unpleasant feeling of uncertainty curling in his gut.

Ridiculous. Why would should he avoid seeing his familiar simply because Harry was there? If Harry wished to blame him for the incident, he could go ahead. He did not care about such sentiment. He had punished the perpetrators, and ensured that all of his followers knew the consequences of acting in such a vulgar manner. He had done his duty as Lord, and had no reason to feel otherwise.

He resumed his strides until he was standing just outside the stables that housed the abraxans. He raised his hand to open the door and then hesitated.

He scowled. _Ridiculous_.

He pushed the door open and walked in, eyes roving until they landed on Harry, who was brushing down one of the younger stallions, making soft noises to calm the excitable animal.

There was a hiss, and Nagini uncoiled herself from the small table in the corner where she had been basking in the sun.

Harry raised his head at the sound and looked over, eyes widening as they landed on the Dark Lord. He looked tired, Lord Voldemort noted, and he could see a slight tremble in his hands. Harry stared at him with an uncertainty that looked _wrong_ on his face.

There was a moment of silence.

“Are you well?” Lord Voldemort asked finally.

Slowly, Harry smiled. He tilted his head slightly and opened his mouth to reply, before frowning in annoyance. Then he sighed. “ _Yes_ ,” he replied in parseltongue.

Lord Voldemort eyed him critically. His eyes were a little red, and he looked far too thin. Still, he seemed fairly content.

“ _The perpetrators have been punished_ ,” he said, using the snake language so that Nagini could understand the conversation as well. He stood stiffly, choosing not to approach any further.

Harry simply nodded, gaze unwavering.

“ _If you are dissatisfied with my methods_ ,” He continued, “ _you need only let me know_.”

Harry shook his head. “ _It’s fine_ ,” he said. “ _It’s over_.”

His brows furrowed slightly. “ _And yet you are still suffering the consequences. Perhaps I let Malfoy off a little too lightly. I could make him hurt,_ ” he mused, eyes hooded. “ _Make him suffer as you suffered._ ”

“Tom,” Harry said gently, eyes soft. “ _It’s alright. You saved me. I’m alright now. Or - well, I will be, soon_.”

The Dark Lord pursed his lips. “ _It should not have happened in the first place,_ ” he hissed.

Harry cocked his head. “ _It was Malfoy’s choice to do what he did. He and his cronies. You know…_ ” his brow furrowed and he stared intently at Tom. “ _You know I don’t blame you, right? It wasn’t your fault._ ”

“ _I am their Lord. Their actions reflect upon me_ ,” he replied stiffly.

“ _Malfoy_ ,” Harry said with a wry grin, “ _has been a prat since I first met him at eleven years old. It has nothing to do with you._ ”

Tom was not quite sure why, but he found himself relaxing. Harry was still smiling at him, though, and he had to turn away. “ _I wish to ride this morning_ ,” he said.

Harry straightened with a nod. “ _Of course_ ,” he said, patting the young stallion as it snorted enviously.

Tom watched Harry saddle up Andarta, his movements a little stilted. Perhaps he should have him hire an assistant. He would bring it up later.

He mounted up outside and then paused, glancing down at Harry, who was watching him with one hand shading his eyes against the bright morning sun. There was something vulnerable in his gaze, and Tom found that he did not like to see such uncertainty.

“ _Would you… like to join me_?” He asked. Something inside him danced a little. He held out a hand.

Harry’s smile was like sunshine.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “My Lord,” Harry said, speaking slower than he used to. “Meet Luna Lovegood, my new assistant!”
> 
> A dreamy-eyed girl gazed up at him. “Far too many Bribbleflimps to be healthy,” she said with a concerned frown.
> 
> Tom stared at her. She hummed quietly.
> 
> He turned to Harry and felt his eyelid twitch.
> 
> Harry shrugged with a grin. “You have Bella,” he said.
> 
> Tom couldn’t argue with that.


End file.
